


Persephone

by cagedchaos



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Poorly written porn, Space!AU, Unbeta-ed, minor (exo) character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagedchaos/pseuds/cagedchaos
Summary: Fresh out of a job, off-planet pilot Zhang Yixing finds new employ with Zeus, the most powerful organized crime leader on Terra Prima.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [It is definitely a happy coincidence that I'm finishing this fic up right after the NASA announcement about those 7 exoplanets.]  
> This is super lazy and not really researched because... well, lazy xD I am so sorry for this unbeta-ed mess.
> 
> Original request: "can you do kris being a horrible, cold mafia boss who sees lay for the first time and falls completely in love with him at first sight?????"

" _Welcome to Terra Prima!_ " the electronic voice greets a little too cheerfully for Zhang Yixing’s tastes as the ship’s door opens onto the platform with the familiar hiss of pressure equalization.

"Ah, home, sweet home," the recently-jobless pilot breathes out as he steps onto solid ground after the premature end of his three year contract. His muscles whine as he stretches both arms above his head but his lungs are thankful for the fresh air he hasn’t tasted in over three dozen Sols.

The Zhang family have a long ancestry on Earth, and Yixing himself was born on this blue planet even if he'd gone to pilot school off-world on Mars when he came of age. He would probably be there now if he didn’t get into it with his last ship’s mechanic, who, unfortunately, was given control of the ship after the captain announced his retirement. How was Yixing supposed to know that they were _father and son_?

“The Gaia Hotel, please,” Yixing requests as he climbs into an automated land transporter. The car’s mechanical voice confirms the destination and a second later, it takes off, merging onto the road smoothly. The landscape of his home planet has barely changed in the ten Terran years Yixing has been away. The same tall buildings reach for the stars, bright adverts broadcast across their glossy profiles for fast food chains, beauty suppliers, and virtual reality providers. _Coca-Cola_ , _Sony_ and _Nike_ all twinkle at him more than once before he’s finally dropped off at the hotel’s front door. He digs through his pockets for his fare, and the measly five thousand credits in his wallet (all he has left to his name from his last job) reminds him that he needs to find a new job soon if he wants to keep staying in hotels like this one for more than a week (maybe a week and a half if he skips lunch).

With nothing but the pack he has slung over one shoulder, he declines the receptionist’s offer for a bellhop. “I like to travel light,” he explains unnecessarily and his audience flickers in and out of focus for a moment before it turns to face the visitor behind Yixing. Pocketing his key card into his jeans, he heads straight for the hotel bar, ordering the first rye whiskey on the wall his eyes fall on before he’s even taken a seat, pack falling to the floor next to his stool.

"First time on Prima?" a voice greets as the human bartender turns around to pour the drink.

Yixing spins around abruptly to find a silver haired man two seats away from him, looking at the pilot eagerly. His fingers are wrapped loosely around a short glass with a cloudy white liquid that Yixing doesn’t recognize. In alarm, the pilot spins around to look behind him and, finding no one there, he raises an eyebrow at the stranger, "You talking to me?" he asks, thanking the bartender quickly for his drink when it arrives.

"You see anyone else here?" the stranger returns, a clear smirk on his face as he gets up to move closer to Yixing.

Yixing wants to make a retort about how the hotel restaurant the bar is home to is actually half full but he doesn’t bother. “No, actually, I was born here,” he replies, answering the original question. He takes a healthy gulp of the amber liquid before glancing back at his stranger.

"Oh?" the silver haired male remarks, pulling his deep purple shirt straight as he sits down, draining what little is left in his glass before signalling for the bartender to refill both their drinks.

“Careful,” Yixing warns with a cheeky smile as he hands his glass over, “You might give someone the wrong impression.”

The stranger raises a curious eyebrow, “And what impression would that be?”

Yixing drains his glass a second time, forehead crinkling as the fiery liquid burns down his throat; he always forgets how strong Terran spirits are. “The impression that you’re a rich man taking advantage of a recently jobless pilot who has been off world for too long and in need of a good fuck?” The response he gets is a disbelieving blank look from the silver haired man, which interests Yixing less than the bartender’s hand which jerks and spills a little of the cloudy white liquid he is pouring into the stranger’s glass. ‘Kyungsoo’ as it reads on his nametag immediately apologizes, his face turning ash white when his customer smiles in the slightest and wipes himself off with a napkin, telling the bartender that ‘it’s no problem’.

“I like your style,” he tells Yixing as he cleans in between his fingers, flipping the hair out of his eye, “But unfortunately,” the stranger drops his napkin onto the counter (immediately retrieved by Kyungsoo) and picks up his glass, throwing it back in a single shot. He stands up to grab the blazer off the back of his original seat and threads his arms through the sleeves, “I have some business I need to attend to right now.”

“You’re not even going to give me a name?” Yixing calls, spinning on his stool so he can watch the stranger walk away.

The stranger pauses a moment in contemplation as he fiddles with properly tucking in his shirt into his pants, “ _You_ can call me Kris,” the stranger finally introduces, doing up the buttons on his jacket.

“Kris,” Yixing repeats, trying out the name, noting that the emphasis on ‘you’ implies that the man goes by other names that he hasn’t shared. “Well, _everyone_ calls me Yixing,” he reciprocates, enjoying how his introduction seems to throw the other off, like he hadn’t expected to be seen through so easily.

“Well then, _Yixing_ ,” Kris greets as he straightens his suit, plunging both hands into his pants pockets, “You have yourself a good night. And Kyungsoo, Yixing’s drinks are on me tonight.” He turns to leave, pausing a couple steps later to turn around with a wide grin, “Oh, and good luck with the job hunt.”

"Haven’t seen him enjoy himself like that in, well, _ever_ ," the bartender pipes up once Kris is out of earshot, topping off Yixing’s drink once more.

"Who, Kris?" Yixing asks, spinning back around on his stool to face Kyungsoo. “That was him enjoying himself?” he asks, baffled, “What’s he like when he’s _serious_ then?”

“Just be careful, okay?” Kyungsoo says, his tone low in a warning that Yixing doesn’t understand before he turns to address another customer.

“Right….” Yixing raises a suspicious eyebrow but doesn’t press the issue; it’s unlikely he’ll run into this ‘Kris’ again, anyway. “And on that note,” he says out loud to himself, taking his drink and draining it before slamming the empty glass upside down on the counter; he has never been one to pass up on free drinks, so why start tonight?

 

“Almost a whole week of searching and nothing?” Lu Han asks, his voice unmistakably mocking as he and Yixing settle into a table in the Gaia Hotel restaurant, “You being picky with what jobs you take? You do realise that beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Yixing groans, hailing the nearest waiter for an order of ‘the usual’. “I’m telling you, Lu Han, this isn’t my fault! I mean they all seemed eager when I talk to them at first but a couple hours later, they won’t even pick up my hail. Terra’s got it out for me, I swear. Might as well use the last of my credits and hitch a ride to Mars.”

Lu Han snorts, “Mars wage could never keep up with your lifestyle and you know it.”

“Then I’ll go to another star system. Earth Seven’s nice.”

“Just come live with me for a bit. I’m sure something will pop up eventually.”

“I’m not a charity case,” Yixing refuses with a look of disgust, thanking the waiter when he returns with his drink.

“Who said anything about charity? I hundred-percent expect something in return,” Lu Han jokes.

Yixing throws a fork in his best friend’s direction with a scowl, eager to drop the topic. He’s coming up on his one-week deadline that he set for himself when he first landed and he hasn’t a single prospect on the horizon; a couple more days and he might actually have to take Lu Han up on his offer, pride be damned.

“Ah, just the man I was looking for,” a familiar voice remarks, making Yixing almost choke on his drink, spilling it down his chin. Grabbing the nearest napkin, he looks up to find Kris (once again dressed up in a fitted suit that Yixing tries not to stare too hard at, lest the owner is made aware of the fact that he is being undressed in the pilot’s head) towering over their table. “Still looking for a job?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah, I am,” Yixing answers.

“Good. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes then,” Kris instructs before spinning on his heel and leaving just as quickly as he arrived.

Yixing’s eyebrows stitch together, “Hey, I didn’t say yes,” he calls after Kris’ retreating figure.

Kris turns on a heel to face the pilot with a subtly amused expression, “You got any other options?”

“No, but,” Yixing starts before hesitating, coming up empty for an excuse.

“Then lobby. Ten minutes,” Kris repeats sternly before disappearing.

“Asshole,” Yixing mutters under his breath as he watches the silver hair disappear from sight before turning to face Lu Han, whose face has been drained of colour. “You okay, Han?”

“Was that…?” Lu Han starts, still staring at the restaurant exit where Kris stood moments ago before he blinks several times and reaches over the table to grab Yixing’s arm tightly, “Are you fucking kidding me, Zhang Yixing?! Five days on this rock and you’re so bored you’re getting in bed with _that_ guy?!”

“Uh,” Yixing returns feebly, before wrestling his arm back to himself, rubbing the red spot left behind by Lu Han’s claws, “Okay, I didn’t say I was sleeping with the guy,” he defends (not that he’s against the idea), “And what’s the problem? I need a job and he’s offering.”

“Look, you’ve only just returned, so you don’t know about _Zeus_ , but I can assure you that he’s trouble.”

Yixing laughs at the archaic name he recalls from his time before the Academy, “I’m sorry, but some fictional god from five millenia ago isn’t going to smite me with a bolt of lightning.”

“ _Zeus_ ! Tall! Silver hair! That’s _him!_ ” Lu Han splutters, gesturing wildly around him. “ _Oh my god, this is his hotel, isn’t it_?!”

“Now you’re just shouting words that don’t make any sense.”

Lu Han groans loudly before taking a deep breath to calm himself before restarting. “ _Zeus_ is what the biggest crime lord on Terra Prima calls himself. He owns at least half this planet with the number of politicians he’s got on his payroll, if not more. He’s supposed to be really tall and sports silver hair and I’m pretty sure that guy was him.”

“‘Pretty sure’?” Yixing echoes, skepticism obvious in his tone. “So you haven’t actually seen this _Zeus_ guy.”

“Well, _no_ , but come on, it’s pretty obvious.”

Yixing rolls his eyes and suppresses an exasperated sigh, “Look, thanks for the warning, but given that I’ve got maybe 300 credits until I’m officially bankrupt, I’m going to try my luck with Kris.” He doesn’t let his friend try to disagree again, standing up quickly and leaving the restaurant in a jog, stopping when he reaches the hotel lobby. He realises then that he’s early, _too early_ , and it makes him somewhat concerned that he looks too eager. “But you are,” he berates himself as he takes a seat on one of the couches; he didn’t want to alarm his best friend in the restaurant but now that he knows about this _Zeus_ character, he almost _hopes_ that Kris is him. Truth be told, Yixing is starting to get bored with the mundane life offered on Earth One.

It’s a few minutes before footsteps on granite floors catches Yixing’s attention. He gets to his feet a little too soon as he watches Kris descend the steps, talking calmly into his communicator with a pair of men and women clad in all black following in his wake.

“Just get it done,” Yixing can overhear Kris say before the hail is ended. “Good, you’re here,” Kris greets curtly, his pace never slowing as he starts for the hotel entrance, an obvious invitation for Yixing to join him. “We’re going for a ride.”

Yixing eyes the silent posse behind Kris as he falls in step with the latter, alarmed when one of them races ahead to hold the hotel door door open for their leader. Yixing follows behind Kris awkwardly, unaccustomed to the formality and he mumbles a thank you that he’s not sure is heard as he passes through. Kris motions for him to get into the car that pulls up, climbing in himself when the door lifts.

“You got a human driver?” Yixing remarks in alarm as soon as he clamours inside, the door closing noiselessly beside him.

“Some things you can’t program,” Kris answers vaguely as the vehicle starts to move, focus fixed on the tablet in his hand. “Which is why I want you.”

“Excuse me?”

“To fly for me,” Kris clarifies. “You were top of your class at the Academy. With your exceptional grades, I’m surprised the government didn’t scoop you up the moment you graduated.”

Yixing snorts, “They tried, and I said no.” He pauses for a moment before he turns to face Kris with narrowed eyes when he realises that he never volunteered his history. He realises, perhaps a little too late that his input was unnecessary. “But you already know that, don’t you? Isn’t this some violation of privacy?” he balks.

“Instead,” Kris continues, ignoring Yixing’s comment about privacy and continuing to tap at something Yixing can’t see on the tablet screen, “you signed on freelance with a bunch of smugglers and spent seven years thereafter looting and selling to the highest bidder.”

Yixing rolls his eyes, “If you were going to have me arrested, I wouldn’t be sitting here, so what’s your point?”

Kris shrugs, “No point. Just wanted to confirm. Talent like yours, it’s a wonder you’re not captaining your  own ship.”

“It’s not a wonder,” Yixing snaps, “There’s the thing you seem to be forgetting that you need to buy a ship: money. That and a crew. Which, incidentally, also requires money.”

The vehicle stops in an unfamiliar zone and Yixing squints at the lone building on the other side of his door, towering five stories high and at least three times as wide. “Where are we?” He’s not sure why he asks questions, given that Kris hasn’t been very keen on providing any answers. With a sigh, he follows the taller’s lead and steps out of the vehicle onto hard pavement. A scan around him shows two other vehicles pulling up behind the one he just stepped out of, opening to reveal the rest of Kris’ following.

“Well, I’ve got a ship. And I’ve got a crew,” Kris says flatly, leading the way towards a silver door that Yixing barely makes out on the building when he squints.

“And are you asking me to captain said ship?”

Kris gifts Yixing the luxury of actually facing him for the first time since their exchange at the restaurant, even if it is to give him an irate glower. “Don’t be stupid. _I’m_ the captain. Like I said, I want you to pilot.” The door opens automatically into a hangar where the aforementioned ship sits. Kris gestures towards the open door when they approach it, inviting Yixing to go ahead and the pilot does so eagerly. “Meet _Persephone._ ”

“Mid-range cargo transport class,” the pilot immediately identifies, quickening his approach towards its cargo entrance with a wide grin on his face, “What are you looking to move? And where?” Yixing asks, making straight for the bridge once he’s onboard. As expected, he gets no reply from Kris, who has his arms crossed now as he watches Yixing from behind, his posse no longer following him. “Not afraid I’m going to shank you in here?” he asks jokingly. “Lots of places to hide your dead body on a ship like this.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yixing smirks, shaking his head as he returns to his investigation, “She’s a nice ship,” he concedes, as he peruses the gauges and controls on the bridge. “But just one question.” He leans back on the console, crossing his arms to mirror Kris, “What’s a simple transport ship doing with a cloaking function? You tryin’ to hide something, Mr. Zeus?” Yixing tests.

A single eyebrow rises slowly into Kris’ forehead followed by a smile, “If you know that name, then did you really need to ask all those other questions?”

Yixing shrugs, “Honestly, I had no idea that name even existed until five minutes before I stepped into your car. And even then, I wasn’t entirely convinced that you were him.”

Kris continues to look amused, “And now?”

Yixing feigns disappointment, “Enh.” He takes joy when his response prompts a scowl from the other.

“So. You going to be my pilot? And before you answer, you should know that if you say no, you’ll be hard pressed to find employment with anyone in this quadrant.”

Yixing narrows his eyes but his lips curl into a grin, “Did you just threaten me? Because _that_ makes you more convincing as this fabled _Zeus_ character. Also, does that make _you_ the reason I haven’t been able to find work these past few days?”

Kris shrugs, nonchalant, “Profile checks take time and I like to be thorough.”

Yixing sucks on his teeth a moment, “Right, _profile checks_ . Of course, silly me. _Much_ more convincing now.” He pushes off the main console and walks up to Kris who frowns down at him, “I’ll take the job but you do know you’re a complete asshole, right?”

“Excuse me?” Kris hisses incredulously.

Yixing snorts before reaching up to clap his palm against the side of Kris’ arm to push him aside so that he can walk past him, “ _Relax_ , you’re so uptight. I was kidding,” he says, pausing a moment before continuing, “Actually, no. No, I wasn’t kidding, you _are_ an asshole, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say no one has ever said that to your face,” he suspects, suddenly realising that that bartender (Kyungsoo, was it?) perhaps _wasn’t_ just a bumbling klutz (he was probably alarmed at how Yixing was addressing the revered _Zeus_ ).

“You fixing to be unemployed again?” Kris voice calls after Yixing.

“Aw, come on, don’t be a spoil sport, King of Gods; that’s what Zeus means, right?” Yixing’s brow crinkles as he tries to recall his ancient mythology lessons from over a decade ago. “Besides, you wouldn’t fire me. _You_ ’ _re_ the one who wants _me_ to work for you, not the other way around. _You_ came looking for _me_ today, remember?”

“Says the man who came onto _me_ within the first minute of us meeting,” Kris counters as they step off the boat together.

“Again, you were the one to say hi first. And then proceeded to offer to buy me a drink, which you actually did, along with,” he trails, trying to recall just how many whiskey’s he’d ordered that first night on Terra Prima. Shrugging when he can’t quite figure it out, he changes the focus, “Also, I’m not blind. I saw you checking me out.”

Kris groans as one of his posse fall into step behind again, “I’m already starting to regret hiring you.”

“Hey, you’re hiring me for my piloting skills, not my winning personality, right? Or is this an admission of your attempt to get into my pants?”

There’s a roll of the eyes and a string of expletives before Kris gestures at one of the smaller cars with a tight-lipped smile, “Tao will make sure you get back to the hotel. Keep yourself available for the next couple days. I’ll have you hailed when I need you.”

“You don’t even have my num-” Yixing begins as the doors start to close and Kris once more rolls his eyes at him through the glass, “Right, forgot you were Creepy Stalker Guy,” he corrects, grinning at how it earns him a disgruntled shake of the head. “We didn’t even talk payment yet!” he calls as the vehicle tears away, engine silent as a whisper.

“Your payment is still being allowed to live after speaking to him like that.”

Yixing spins around at the unfamiliar voice to find who he assumes is ‘Tao’ with his arms crossed beside the only vehicle left on the road. “And how many meals does that buy exactly?”

“Just get in the car,” Tao snaps, impatience thick on his voice.

“Whoa, tough crowd today,” Yixing remarks but does as he’s told.  

The brief ride back to the hotel is short and quiet, and Tao only opens his mouth when he’s seeing Yixing off. “You’d be wise to watch your tongue around _duizhang_ the next time you are summoned. He doesn’t take well to insubordination,” he warns as his only parting words before climbing back into the vehicle and taking off.

Lu Han is waiting for him on one of the couches by the hotel entrance and he jumps to his feet as soon as Yixing steps through the door. “Oh, thank god you’re still alive,” he breathes, drawing Yixing in for a hug.

“Jesus, hands off the merchandise, Han,” Yixing mutters as he struggles to peel his best friend off him.

“You didn’t take his offer, right?” Lu Han asks, his expression so hopeful that Yixing almost feels bad for having said yes to Kris. He considers a moment to admit that he didn’t have a choice in the matter, but the resulting panic that might induce has him cringing. “Please tell me you weren’t stupid enough to take the offer,” Lu Han prods again.

“Uh… I didn’t take the offer?” he says instead, taking the request literally as he makes for  the restaurant once more in hopes of grabbing the dinner Kris robbed of him.

“I’d be grateful, if it weren’t so obvious that you’re lying right now.”

Yixing applauds sarcastically, “Top marks for observation, Han. Now can we get some dinner?” He hears Lu Han sigh long and loud behind him and he prepares himself for the inevitable lecture.

“You’ve got a death wish or something? First those pirates and now this? By the way, I still think it’s some miracle you were never arrested.”

“Not a miracle, Han. I think they call it ‘evasive maneuvering’? Also, not pirates. Just some honest smugglers.”

“Don’t patronize me, Zhang Yixing,” Lu Han snaps as he grabs the chair out of Yixing’s hand and settles into it himself, its legs scratching on the floor loudly as he pulls it out from under the table. “I don’t think you understand the risks of running in the same circles as _Zeus._ ”

Yixing feigns offence at having his seat stolen and makes a dramatic point of rounding the table to settle in the chair across his best friend. “You make it sound like I’m not used to being on the wrong side of the law,” he muses, thanking the waiter when he’s handed a menu. He’s thankful when Lu Han waits until the waiter leaves the two alone once more before he continues, citing the many times Yixing had been close to being arrested. “Like you said, _almost_ arrested. It’s not breaking the law if you don’t get caught.”

“That nonsense logic is what’s going to finish you one day, Zhang Yixing!” Lu Han all but yells, slamming his menu down on the table, “And I’m _not_ going to stand by idly while you ruin your life!”

Yixing rolls his eyes and shoves a finger in each ear until Lu Han’s face reddens dangerously; it’s not long now before Lu Han is going to storm out in a huff. The two have had this argument plenty of times in the last near-decade and it was always the same worried refrain that fell on deaf and uncaring ears. It’s not that Yixing doesn’t appreciate the concern - he finds it endearing, actually, that Lu Han still bothers after so many years - but Yixing enjoys what he does too much to stop only for Lu Han’s sake.

Lu Han glowers a last time before he lets out a defeated sigh and kicks his chair out. “Whatever, you always just do what you want anyway,” he mutters, almost as if to himself before he stands and spins around to leave. “Don’t expect me to come bail you out,” he adds in a mumble. “And I’m definitely not going to be the one to have to call your grandma if you get yourself killed.”

His best friend’s parting comment leaves a bitter taste in Yixing’s mouth and he glares at Lu Han’s retreating back, annoyed enough about Lu Han using the pilot’s grandmother in his argument that he doesn’t order anything when the waiter returns, no longer hungry. He follows Lu Han’s lead and exits the restaurant a few minutes later, chewing on a thumbnail as he waits for the elevator and staring absently at nothing. He almost misses the _ding_ when the elevator doors open and it takes a fellow hotel guest to call out to him to bring Yixing back to his senses.

By the time Yixing’s back in his room, he has reminded himself that Lu Han never stays angry at him for longer than a couple sleeps. Consoled by the thought, he grabs a soda from his fridge and commands the television to life. He has barely dropped into his bed to lean against the soft pillows that Yixing has always been hard pressed to find anywhere that isn’t a Prime Planet before an annoying buzzing sound alerts him to an incoming message; Kris (or at least someone that represents him well enough) has returned Yixing’s contract with signed approval. He raises an eyebrow momentarily, a little alarmed at how quickly his proposal was accepted - he’d expected to get _some_ push back. “Should’ve asked to more money if you were going to be this easy,” he grumbles out loud to himself, a little regretful.

Yixing is still mulling over the possible things he should’ve asked for in his head when the buzzer at his door sounds and his neck snaps around to stare at the door with narrowed eyes in suspicion. He contemplates briefly to ignore whoever has dropped in for an unannounced visit and almost opts to stay seated before the thought of Lu Han on the other side of the door crosses his mind; Yixing never liked to leave things between them sour for very long.

He’s surprised though when he finds Kris on the security camera screen but a smile slowly breaks across his face and he opens the door eagerly, leaning against the door frame with a smirk, “Miss me already?”

Kris’ expression barely breaks, only a slight raise of one eyebrow to betray his disbelief at Yixing’s words. He doesn’t say anything before he steps forward, his intention to enter the room obvious.

Yixing’s forehead crinkles as he pushes off the frame and stands resolutely in the taller’s path, “Whoa, slow down there, cowboy. Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asks.

Kris stumbles a little before he’s actually stopped, a slightly confused look on his face that makes Yixing think that this man is unfamiliar with the concept of a room he cannot enter. Yixing resists the urge to laugh at the taller’s expression and holds his own features straight, waiting for an explanation.

“Inside?” Kris tries, his tone matter-of-fact, like Yixing was stupid for asking.

“What for?”

“Well, earlier you said…” Kris trails as if the end of his sentence should be evident but Yixing crosses his arms, his expression expectant though he has already pieced together what it is that Kris wants inside his hotel room. Still, the pilot wants to hear it, especially now that Kris has narrowed his eyes into a glare. “You really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” Yixing says, his amusement obvious all over his face.

There’s a low groan as Kris presses his eyes shut tightly, “Forget I was ever here,” he grumbles when he opens his eyes before spinning around to leave.

“Aww, you’re no fun!” Yixing calls after him, making the other pause a handful of steps away and turn back with a scowl on his face. The pilot waves the other back, putting on his best smile that pulls wider when Kris sighs and backpedals.

“You gunna let me in?” Kris asks after a moment, letting out a low growl when Yixing crosses his arms expectantly. His shoulders heave visibly as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slow, “Look, you’re cute and I like you, but I’m not going to grovel. So yes or no?”

Yixing blinks a couple times in alarm at the honesty, but he recovers quickly, “Alright, if we’re being straight about it, I don’t mix business with pleasure,” he states flatly, “And believe me, I wish you’d shown up five minutes earlier but unfortunately, contract’s signed so…,” he trails, lips pressing into a line as he tries hard not to eye Kris from head to toe again.

Kris seems to hesitate a moment as he takes in Yixing’s words and then he shrugs, “Fair enough. Then I guess I am just here to tell you that a car will be here first thing in the morning,” he announces, “Get packed, we’re leaving tomorrow.”

Yixing is a little disappointed that the sentence that started with ‘Then I guess I’ didn’t end with ‘have to fire you’ but the envelop Kris holds out reminds him that he needs this job. While he does regret the missed opportunity of seeing the taller undressed in his hotel room, he’s sure he’ll regret not being able to afford food and a roof _more_. The pilot doesn’t bother checking the contents of the envelop when he takes it from his newest employer; he has no doubt that the payment outlined in his contract is paid in full. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, though he’s not sure that Kris hears him as he turns to leave again.

 

Yixing is just zipping up his luggage the next day when there’s a quiet knock on his hotel door. He groans and rolls his eyes, “Yeah, just give me a minute!” he yells and follows up with a loud curse; yes, he might’ve hit the snooze on his alarm this morning a few times too many, but that certainly didn’t warrant this aggression from Tao, who has already expressed his distaste when he first knocked on the door half an hour ago, waking Yixing up for the final time. “Can I at least shower?” he asks as he throws the door open, the end of his sentence fading into nothing when he finds Lu Han standing in front of him. “Oh, uhm, sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Can I come in?” Lu Han asks, clearing his throat unnecessarily as he finds somewhere to look at that’s not his best friend.

Yixing sighs as he checks the time but he turns so that Lu Han can get past him, “Of course, but I’m setting out today so...”

“I’ll be quick then,” Lu Han says in a rush as he steps through the frame. “Look,” he says once Yixing has closed the door, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you last night. I know you can take care of yourself, but just… _please_ be careful, okay? It’s just… I like having my best friend in one piece is all. And breathing.”

Yixing throws his bag over his shoulder and then ushers Lu Han back out the door in front of him. “I’ll be _fine_ , Han, I promise. Nothing’s going to happen, alright? Stop your worrying.”

“Nope, never going to stop worrying,” Lu Han corrects as he’s pushed into the hallway, eliciting a growl from Yixing, “But I _will_ try to work on trusting your judgement a little more,” he amends when he turns to face Yixing again.

“ _Thank_ you,” Yixing answers appreciatively, letting the older wrap his arms around him briefly before he assures him that he _really_ needs to get back to packing before Tao has his hide for being even more delayed. Lu Han sighs a last time but he manages a smile as he waves a goodbye, leaving Yixing to throw the last of his things into his bag. He decides last minute that he will take whatever wrath Tao may rain on him if it meant that he can have one last running-water shower before whatever trip Kris has decided to send him on.

 

“Kim Minseok. I’m the mechanic,” the final crew member introduces, holding his hand out for Yixing to shake with a smile, the first that the pilot has seen since he stepped onto _Persephone_ a half hour ago. (Amber, Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Tao were all sour-faced as they were introduced upon Yixing’s arrival, all dressed in sombre black just as Yixing remembers them when he first paid visit to _Persephone_.)

Yixing takes the mechanic’s hand enthusiastically, “ _Finally_ , someone normal on this boat! I mean, why is everyone so _serious_ around here?”

Minseok laughs as he takes a seat in the mess hall with his plate, “I’m sorry but did they not give you the orientation on who we work for?”

Yixing settles into the bench across the table, appreciative of a fellow joker onboard. “Yeah, so? Doesn’t mean everyone has to be so grumpy and serious all the time.”

The mechanic shrugs as he shovels something red-brown onto a spoon, “You get used to it,” he says, muffled behind whatever it is that he has shoved into his mouth.

Yixing makes a disgusted face at the prospect of prepackaged space food for the foreseeable future and wonders idly if he should’ve asked Tao if they could stop to grab a few things from the market first. “Probably would’ve punched me if I asked,” he grumbles to himself, making Minseok look up from his plate momentarily before Yixing shakes his head with a ‘nevermind’.

“Hey, new guy.”

Yixing snaps around to the mess hall entrance to find a tall male in a black suit looking at him sternly. The pilot turns to look around him before he realises that _he_ ’s the ‘new guy’ being referenced. “Me?” he asks dumbly while pointing to himself. He doesn’t miss the snort that comes from across the table but he pretends not to hear it as he gets to his feet. “Chanyeol, right?” he tries, hoping he’s pronounced it right; he remembers making a joke about Kris only employing tall people when they were first introduced to each other.

The tall man rolls his eyes and turns to leave, signalling for Yixing to follow without another word. Slightly alarmed at being ordered around, Yixing glances back down at Minseok who only shrugs as he chews another mouthful. Yixing sighs long but steps around the bench, picking up his pace to catch up with his summoner. “You know, a _please_ can go a long way sometimes,” he says idly as he falls in step beside the other man. He’s not terribly surprised or offended when he only gets more silence as a reply. He gives up trying to make conversation and is glad when less than a minute later, Chanyeol stops in front of a closed door and steps aside, an indication for Yixing to proceed onto the bridge without him.

Yixing eyes the closed door skeptically before he slides it open and steps inside. He finds Kris standing at the helm, fingers idly tracing over the console’s surface as he looks up at his guest and tilts his head towards the chair, “Sit.” Yixing keeps his position at the entrance until Chanyeol gives him a push forward, sending the pilot tripping over himself as the door is slid shut behind him. “Sit,” Kris repeats, his tone a might sterner.

With a sigh, Yixing takes a couple steps forward and does as he’s told, kicking his feet up onto the controls and leaning back. “You see that button there?” he asks, pointing vaguely to Kris’ left, “You realise you could’ve just asked over the intercom if I could come up here, right? Didn’t have to send a guy.” He earns a glare for the comment and Yixing grins wide at the reaction, pulling his arms behind him so that he can rest his head back against his hands.

“I need to be on Whitestone within the week,” Kris announces without preamble, crossing his arms and leaning back on the console to face Yixing.

Yixing’s eyebrows thread together as he recalls the terraformed moon three galaxies away. “Yeah, I can get you there in four days but what the hell do you need on that piece-of-crap moon?”

The question make Kris shift on the spot, almost imperceptibly. “I have… business there,” he explains. The pause makes Yixing want to press for more information but the thin line that the other’s lips form makes him hesitate momentarily, “Don’t you have guys that do that shit for you, _Zeus_?” he mocks, “What’s a king of gods doing his own work for?”

The long and exasperated sigh reaches Yixing’s hair, tickling it for a moment before Kris speaks again, “It’s personal, okay? And I need you to get me there incident free. Which means no government, I don’t have time for government this week.”

“Uh, sure…” Yixing trails, spinning in his seat to watch as Kris walks towards the door.

“Good, we leave as soon as Minseok gets all his stuff in order, which better be within the hour, or he’s fired. Go see if you can give him a hand, he’s the one-” Kris starts to describe to have Yixing interrupt.

“Yeah, I know who Minseok is, the only one who knows what a smile is on this boat.”

Kris turns around just as Chanyeol slides the door open for him and offers a chuckle - a strange sound for Yixing’s ears - before he leaves, Chanyeol close on his heels. Yixing stares after the duo, even after they are long gone, with a raised eyebrow and asking himself once more whether it was a good idea to accept this job.

 

 _Persephone_ takes off half an hour later than Kris wants but Minseok is still employed as Yixing pulls away from Terra Prima with Kris in the chair where a co-pilot would typically sit, much to Yixing’s disdain. “You know, if you’re going to sit there, you could at least be useful. A coffee would be _great_ right about now,” he says as he flips a couple switches to keep _Persephone_ level as their altitude climbs.

“You can get your own damn coffee once we’re out of atmo.”

Yixing can almost hear the scowl as he concentrates on what’s in front of him and he laughs out loud at his new boss’ sour attitude. “Can’t take a joke, huh. Must not be fun to be the king of gods, having to be serious all the time.” He pouts for effect, knowing that it’ll serve to annoy Kris further.

“You want to keep your job?” Kris threatens from the other side of the bridge.

“Can’t fire me, dumbass. You signed a contract, remember?”

“I am seriously starting to regret that choice. And don’t you think I’ve got lawyers for that kind of thing?”

Yixing ignores the comment as he flips another switch, pulling away from the planet’s gravitational field. He finally glances around and snorts when he finds Kris looking slightly green. “This can’t be your first time off planet…?” Yixing asks as he sets _Persephone_ on an automated course to Whitestone.

The implied accusation makes Kris snap around to glare at him, “Of course I have. I just don’t like take-offs,” he growls as he unbuckles his seatbelt and dispels it with more force than is really necessary before storming out of the bridge.

“Riiiiight,” Yixing calls after him as he checks his numbers again, making sure that he has calculated the correct heading. It’s as he’s finishing up a triple check that he notices the flashing red light on his console accompanied by a quiet beeping. “Well, this is new,” he grumbles to himself, curious as he leans forward to inspect the discovery. A second light starts to flash and he curses loudly when he realises what the combination of alarms mean. He hits to button for the ship’s intercom with one finger as he flips a couple switches to pull _Persephone_ out of cruise and back into manual with the other hand. “Minseok? Can you come up here a sec? And, uh, bring the captain too if you see him on the way.” He flips the mic off and immediately busies himself with finding a solution.

“Wow, I see you’re comfortable enough to start ordering people around, huh?” Minseok pipes up when he arrives a second later, “Didn’t find the captain though, thought he was up here with you.”

“How long is it going to take you to get the mag-booster to 100%?” Yixing asks urgently as chews on his bottom lip in contemplation. He watches Minseok blink blankly a couple times, looking bewildered. “Well?” he prompts again, eyeing the flashing red dot on his radar anxiously.

“Uh, I dunno, five minutes? Why?”

“We’ve got a tail,” Yixing starts to explain as he turns to his console again, “and for some reason, I can’t get the cloak up, so we’re just going to have to lose them the old fashioned way.” There’s a pause before Yixing hears the sound of boots clamouring to get off the bridge. “Let me know when it’s ready!” He yells after the mechanic, chewing anxiously on the back of his pen as he scans through his maps for what he is looking for.

“What’s going on? Minseok practically mowed me down trying to get out of here,” Kris pipes up when he returns.

Yixing doesn’t answer immediately, pointing the the co-pilot chair that had just been vacated a mere five minutes earlier, “Might want to strap yourself in,” he directs, wondering briefly if he should tell everyone else on board to do the same before his attention is wholly on the Prime Planet patrol ship gaining on their position. “Minseok?” he calls nervously over the direct line to the engine room, “I need good news.” Static is the only response and Yixing starts to fidget when a second red dot joins the first on his screen, both locked onto _Persephone_.

“ _Sit down and strap in, Kris_ ,” Yixing repeats, annoyed that Minseok still hasn’t replied.

“You need to tell me what the hell is going on _right now_ ,” Kris persists, standing resolutely still.

“We’ve got company. The kind you didn’t want,” Yixing explains, pointing at the empty seat again. “Cloak’s malfunctioning, but I can still get us out of this if Minseok can get the damn mag-booster running.” Yixing ends up yelling the last part at his mic, even though he knows it’s off and the mechanic can’t hear him.

“I thought you and Minseok checked all the systems before take off.”

Yixing doesn’t have time to defend himself against the obvious accusation Kris is trying to make because Minseok has finally called back, “Ready when you are, Zhang.”

“Hold on to something,” Yixing instructs as he turns a dial and hits another switch, “We’re taking a detour.”

 _Persephone_ lurches at the sudden acceleration and Yixing smiles as he feels the familiar rush of The Chase when he sees the two patrol ships on his screen pick up speed to try to match his. It’s been months since he’s had to outrun the authorities as a smuggler and it was while piloting a familiar ship. _Persephone_ is definitely not familiar, but she has better mobility and reacts almost instantaneously when Yixing tells her to turn, heading straight for the asteroid belt.

“Are you trying to kill us all?” Kris exclaims when he finally realises what Yixing’s plan is, knuckles white against the straps holding him in his seat.

Yixing smirks as the first rock comes into view and he ignores the question, focusing instead on keeping his breathing steady and his grip firm on the wheel. He chances a glance to Kris and his grin widens into a laugh when he sees the ashen face, eyes wide and unblinking as he stares into the oncoming chaos. “Don’t worry, you hired me for a reason, right?”

It takes half an hour of weaving and occasionally missing asteroids by barely a hair to lose their pursuers but after checking five times, Yixing is sure that _Persephone_ is alone once more. “Downside is though,” he announces for Kris’ benefit, “We’re not going to be at Whitestone as planned, gunna be at least a whole day later once I get us back on the right path,” Yixing estimates, reluctant to share his honest opinion that their schedule is closer to two days delayed.

A metallic click rings quietly through the bridge as Kris unbuckles himself from the seat once more. “Just get us there in one piece and make sure we don’t get any more trouble. And find out what’s wrong with the cloak,” he snaps as he gets to his feet.

“Actually, about that…” Both captain and pilot turn their attention to the door where Minseok stands nervously. “I checked it out while Yixing was flexing his figurative steering biceps and, well, I’ve got it back online but,” he hesitates before turning to close the entrance door. “Sir,” his voice drops just above a whisper as he steps forward, “The stealth unit was disabled manually with a severed coupler and I’m sure I checked it before we left the planet.” Minseok pauses again, mouth opening and closing a couple times with nothing coming out.

“Spit it out, Kim Minseok,” Kris commands, on his feet now and his towering height terrifying.

Yixing looks between the other two and swallows hard; he knows exactly what Minseok is trying to say and why it’s making him so nervous.

“This… someone had to have done it _after_ we took off… _Someone still on this ship,_ ” Minseok finally manages to get out, gaze averting towards the floor as his muscles visibly tense; it’s a dangerous thing, suggesting betrayal.

A deathly silence falls between the three on the bridge that makes the ever present hum of the engine louder than usual. It’s a long moment before Kris finally looks away from Minseok to stare steadily at Yixing with a dangerous glint in his eye. “You’re the newest addition.”

Yixing doesn’t miss a beat as he scoffs his disbelief. “Really? Me? If I wanted you captured by the feds, why bother losing them in an asteroid belt?”

“To show off,” Kris counters, “And to earn my trust so you could betray me.”

“Okay, you can have the first one, it _was_ pretty fun,” Yixing admits with a grin and a wiggle of the eyebrows, “But seriously? Let’s rewind a bit here to refresh your memory. You were the one to approach me and then proceeded to look up my life story without my approval. I mean, _you’re_ the one who needs to earn _my_ trust. And,” he adds, leaning back in his chair, “If I really wanted to manipulate you like that, wouldn’t it have been easier to just let you fuck me last night? Wait ‘til you were asleep and then call the authorities to take you away?” He throws in a wink for good measure as he throws his feet up on the console.

Kris balks visibly at the suggestion, “Who said anything about me wanting to stay the night?”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Yixing rolls his eyes, confident now that Kris has rescinded his suspicions, given how the taller’s gaze softens, the dangerous glint nowhere in sight any longer.

Minseok clears his throat loudly, making no effort to hide his discomfort at the current subject of discussion, “With all due respect, sir. I don’t think it was Yixing,” he says, an obvious effort to steer the conversation back to the concern at hand.

“Yeah, I was up here the whole time,” Yixing chimes.

Kris runs a hand through his hair a couple times before pressing his fingers into his eyes with a loud groan. “You,” he directs at Minseok when he opens his eyes once more, “make sure nothing else on this ship is damaged, and you,” he turns to Yixing as he starts making his way to the door, “Put us back on track to Whitestone.” He breathes in deeply as he slides open the metal entryway, “And I, have myself a mole to catch.”

Pilot and mechanic share uneasy glances but exhange no words before each turn to do as they’re told. Yixing takes a deep breath as he pulls up the map on his screen, contemplating the best strategy for getting to Whitestone in the least amount of time. Diving through the asteroid belt might’ve been a great method for losing the feds but they were now on the wrong side of Terra Prima from their destination. Factoring in the fact that using the mag-booster like he did has drained more of their fuel supply than Yixing would’ve liked, _Persephone_ is now over thirty-six hours behind schedule. He groans at the prospect of delivering this news to the captain and he drops his head into his hands. He debates between making up a larger estimation to tell Kris now so that when he does the math properly later, he’ll look like a genius, or to just do the math now and give Kris a definite answer the first time he breaks the news of their delay.

Before Yixing can make up his mind, a loud clatter echoes off in the distance followed by muffled voices shouting. He scrambles to unbelt himself from his chair, jumping to his feet and making for the commotion. He nearly trips over himself in alarm when he arrives in the cargo bay to find Kris with a hand around Chanyeol’s neck, the latter pushed up against a wall until his toes are barely grazing the floor. The area has fallen silent except for the gasps that slip from Chanyeol, his face getting redder with every passing second as Kris’ fingers tighten against his trachea.

“Kris! What the hell are you doing?!” Yixing exclaims, starting towards the duo before he’s stopped by Tao who gives him a silent and warning shake of the head as he holds out his arm in front of the pilot to block his path.

Kris doesn’t seem to hear Yixing, or he’s choosing to ignore him. He reaches for his victim’s holster with his free hand, clicking the safety off on the gun before he holds the barrel to Chanyeol’s temple. The action brings a mocking smile to bloodied lips, “Do it,” Chanyeol croaks, eyes challenging even as he struggles for breath. The knuckles on Kris’ hand whiten as his grip tightens and he presses the weapon further so that Chanyeol’s head tilts to the side from the force but he doesn’t pull the trigger.

“This is ridiculous,” Yixing grumbles to himself as he watches four people standing around the room and simply watching the scene unfold before them in silence. He dodges Tao’s efforts to stop him again and runs up to Kris, placing one hand on the taller’s shoulder, “That’s enough.” He’s ignored again and he watches the muscles in his employer’s jaw pull taut. “ _Kris_ ,” he persists.

“Four years,” Kris bites out in a low voice, attention still trained on Chanyeol, “ _How could you_?”

“Let go, Kris,” Yixing tries again, second hand coming up to close around Kris’ in an attempt to remove the gun.

Kris’ head snaps around in alarm, like he’s only just noticed Yixing’s arrival. It takes a minute for him to realise what his pilot is trying to do and he swings his arm free of Yixing, sending the latter back a couple steps with his hands up on either side of his head when the weapon is now trained on him. “You trying to tell me what to do?” Kris barks, “This is _my_ ship, Zhang Yixing, _my rules_.”

Yixing’s gaze flips cautiously between the weapon in his face and Kris’ narrowed eyes, full of unhinged menace. ‘ _Well, that’s_ one _way to get him to stop pointing the gun at Chanyeol, you idiot,_ ’ he thinks to himself as he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. “You didn’t hire me because I was good at following the rules, _your fucking highness_. Put the guy down because I haven’t put us on a course to Whitestone yet. And unless you’ve miraculously learned how to fly this boat, I’m not going to do it if you kill him.”

“You want to be next?” Kris threatens but Yixing holds his gaze steady until the fingers around Chanyeol’s neck start to relax and the latter falls to the floor with a metallic thud, coughing as oxygen floods into his lungs again. Yixing lets himself let out a sigh of relief that gets caught in his throat midway when Kris takes a long stride towards him until they are almost touching noses. “Try something like that again and I don’t care how cute you are, I’ll shoot you myself.” His tone is low only for Yixing to hear, with a smile that doesn’t touch his eyes as he says the words. The pilot swallows hard but doesn’t waver, holding his captain’s steely gaze until Kris finally steps around him. “Tie him up. He’s your responsibility now, _new guy._ The rest of you, back to work!”

There’s clattering as everyone scrambles to return about their business and Yixing catches Kris’ retreating figure in his periphery before he looks down at the still coughing Chanyeol now on his hands and knees. With a long sigh, he grabs the traitor by the elbow and pulls him stumbling to his feet.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“Just shut up,” Yixing snaps; he may not have been a fan of Kris’ intention to kill the traitor, but he understands loyalty, something Chanyeol clearly doesn’t. He drags the man to one of the empty bunks and checks him for any other concealed weapons before he finds a piece of rope to tie Chanyeol to the bed frame.

“You can’t trust him, newbie,” Chanyeol warns as Yixing starts for the door.

“I don’t. But I trust you less,” the pilot assures before closing the door and setting the lock panel to open only with his own prints.

“Ballsy,” Minseok announces his presence once the door locks with a buzz, startling Yixing into a jump. “There’s also another word for it, though and I believe it’s ‘stupid’.”

Yixing turns around to sigh at the comment, “What was I supposed to do, just let him shoot the guy?”

“The rest of us would,” Minseok shrugs, pushing off the wall he’s leaning on to keep pace next to Yixing as the pilot heads back to his bridge.

“Yeah, if I hadn’t come to see what the commotion was, Chanyeol would probably be dead right now, and we’d be stuck cleaning up the resulting mess,” he states, not bothering to disguise his disapproval.

“Well, if any of us tried to do what you just did, _we_ ’d probably be dead.”

“Excuses. You’re all just a bunch of cowards.”

“No,” Minseok assures, grabbing Yixing to stop him, “He’s different with you, and I can tell even after only a couple hours of meeting you.”

Yixing rolls his eyes at the idea and pulls away, “Whatever, Minseok,” he mutters. Yes, Kris has definitely shown interest in him and Yixing would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same, but he was clear about his professional boundaries last night.

“You’re the only one he lets address him by his first name, Yixing,” Minseok calls after him, making Yixing pause halfway through the entrance onto the bridge. “I’m telling you because you seem like a nice guy, but some people might not take kindly to you getting so close to _duizhang_. Just be careful, okay?”

The sound of boots retreating has Yixing turning around again but he doesn’t give the revelation much thought before he turns around once more. He collapses into his chair with a heavy sigh, letting the seat spin slowly as he leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. He loses track of how many rotations he’s gone through before he finally snaps upright again and pulls up a map on the display, setting the gears in his head to work.

By the time Yixing has corrected _Persephone’s_ trajectory and put her on cruise, his stomach is growling, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since last night. He’s reluctant to leave the bridge empty but reminds himself that it is unlikely that there are _two_ betrayers on this ship. With a last verification that his numbers are correct (and setting the alarms to ring through the ship should another mishap unfold), he makes his way to the kitchen to fix himself something. He’s in the middle of unwrapping a protein bar that has blatantly lied about its spectacular taste that he remembers he still hasn’t reported to Kris about the ship’s status. Groaning, he shoves the rest of the bar into his mouth as he rummages through the pantry for coffee beans, ignoring the crumbs that fall through his lips as he chews; coffee always improves any situation.

As Yixing waits for the beverage to brew, he frowns, wondering if he should’ve just foregone the coffee altogether given that he has no idea how Kris takes it; he might risk angering the captain more than he already has today. The coffee pot sputters as the last of the dark liquid is brewed and Yixing turns it off, grabbing the mug from underneath it with one hand and then digging through the drawers for sugar packets. He’s in the process of shoving the only two he can find into his pockets when he’s joined by Kris who stops abruptly at the entrance of the mess hall when he sees Yixing.

Mild panic courses through Yixing as he tries to figure out what to say; he was supposed to have a couple minutes to sort his thoughts on his way to the captain’s quarters. “Uhm, I was uh… I was just on my way to see you,” he manages to get out, clearing his throat when he hears how how pitched his voice is. “Uh, coffee?” he offers, holding his hand out.

Kris eyes Yixing for a moment, probably debating if he should turn to leave, before his shoulders lift and fall in a heavy sigh and he makes his way to the dining table.

“Sugar? Creamer?” Yixing offers with relief, though he has no idea where the latter is.

“Uhm, just one sugar is fine,” Kris answers as he takes a seat on the bench.

Yixing grins as he pulls out the packet from his pocket and empties it into the cup before sliding it across the table towards Kris. “So. We’re back on track to Whitestone, but it’s gunna be six days instead of four to get there.” He gets a curt hum for a response and Yixing fidgets in his seat. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to… challenge your authority or whatever. Just… you realise what a rotting corpse smells like right? I mean, there’s not a whole lot of fresh air in here, even with clean filters. I know Minseok and I checked them before we took off, but still.” He stops abruptly when he realises he’s starting to ramble. “Anyway, sorry,” he repeats, “Won’t happen again.”

Kris stares at Yixing from behind his mug before a smile creases his eyes, “I seriously doubt it won’t happen again but I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

Yixing cracks a grin of his own at being so easily forgiven and he’s about to express his gratitude when an alarm starts to blare from the speakers. “Shit.”

“What, we being followed again?” Kris asks, setting his drink down.

“Uhm, maybe,” Yixing lies as he gets to his feet, “Or you know, that might be the alarm that goes off if the door holding Chanyeol in his room gets opened. Maybe?” he laughs nervously, turning and bolting towards the sleeping quarters.

“ _Are you fucking kidding me, Zhang Yixing?!”_ Kris’ voice booms behind him as Yixing runs, stopping when he finally reaches the open door with Chanyeol nowhere in sight. The panel screen on the inside of the room fizzes in and out of operation, loose cables sticking out at odd angles. A string of expletives slips loudly from his lips as he types onto the outside panel to shut down the alarm. He glances around him, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he takes a wild stab at which direction Chanyeol might’ve taken.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Kris asks when he’s caught up to Yixing.

“I wish I was,” Yixing answers, regretting his decision to stop Kris earlier. “You can yell at me later, okay? It’s not that big a ship, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” he says as he searches his current surroundings, yelping when he’s suddenly grabbed from the left and spun around to face Kris, his back pressed against whom he can only assume is Chanyeol given how there is now a cold knife’s blade on his neck.

“Hey, there, newbie. We meet again,” Chanyeol whispers in Yixing’s ear as he pulls them both backwards from Kris.

“Put the knife down, Chanyeol,” Kris says, almost bored.

‘ _Bored! Why does he sound bored?! I swear if he gets me killed right here, I am going to haunt the shit out of him for a million years_ .’ Yixing feels his captor shake his head against his own as they continue backwards. Yixing has never had concerns about tripping over his own feet but he panics now at the thought than any misstep might result in a split jugular, _his_ split jugular to be precise. “I really should’ve let you kill him,” he jokes before Chanyeol digs the tip harder until it pierces the skin and something warm trickles down his neck.

“Shut up, pretty boy,” Chanyeol snarls before he directs his next words to Kris, who takes careful steps to follow along, “Your new favourite toy and I are going to go for a walk and he’s going to turn this ship around so I can get my reward for handing you over.”

Kris sighs and Yixing could almost kill him for being so calm, “Look, I don’t even care why you’re doing this,” he says conversationally, “but you’ve been with me for four years now, so just put the knife down and we can talk about setting you down on some fringe planet to live out the rest of your pathetic life.” He pauses, waiting for a response for what feels like an eternity to Yixing but Chanyeol doesn’t let up, his hold around Yixing tightening instead. “Last chance,” Kris warns in a tone that’s suddenly a lot less light and sends a shiver through an already panicked Yixing.

Without warning, Kris suddenly draws a gun from behind him and aims it at Chanyeol. Less than a second later, Yixing’s ear is ringing and he almost falls when his captor’s arm suddenly goes limp around him. The knife clatters on the ground, narrowly missing Yixing’s foot as the pilot struggles to remain upright. “That was excessive,” he slurs in an attempt to make light of the situation. He tries to smile but falls short when he reaches up to his cheek and his hand comes away covered in reddened clumps.

“It really wasn’t,” Kris assures as he moves to catch Yixing just as all the strength finally disappears from the pilot’s knees. “We did things your way and it didn’t work out, so we did them my way. I win,” he chuckles softly in victory, though Yixing thinks it sounds a little forced. Kris maneuvers around so that he can throw Yixing’s arm around his neck, supporting the shorter against himself.

“You’re an asshole, Kris,” Yixing mutters as he fights to get his feet moving in time with Kris’.

“Yeah, didn’t we already establish that a while ago?” Kris asks, stowing his gun in the back of his pants once more before slinging his hand around to support Yixing’s waist. “Alongside the fact that you’re a cocky and insufferable brat?”

“‘Brat’?” Yixing echoes, indignant as he uses the wall to propel him forward, eager to keep this distracting parry between Kris going so that he doesn’t have to think about why they are having it in the first place. “I resent that. Cocky, yes. Insufferable? Maybe a little. But ‘brat’? That’s just plain mean.”

Kris sets Yixing down on a couch, muttering a quick ‘I’ll be back’ before he disappears and reappears with a wet cloth.

“Thanks, by the way, for, you know, having really good aim,” Yixing grumbles with downcast eyes, rubbing has palms along the length of his thigh, hoping it helps to bring his muscles back to working order. He tries hard not to focus on the side of his face that feels wet, harder still to pretend it’s only blood that’s made itself home on his skin.

“Don’t worry,” Kris smirks as he takes a seat on the table in front of the couch, hand reaching up to dab the cloth at the mess on Yixing’s face, “I was really aiming for you. I mean, what manner of stupid do you have to be to suck _that much_ at tying a guy up?”

“I mean it, Kris,” Yixing deadpans, tired of their charade.

“You’re not the only who’s good at what they do,” _Persephone’_ s captain shrugs, “You’re okay, though?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You got good aim, remember?”

Kris’ hand drops and he sets the now crimson cloth on the table beside him, “No, I mean, _are you okay_?” he asks again, his concern obvious in the way his eyes meet with Yixing’s.

The pilot doesn’t know how to answer. He’s no stranger to death; his smuggling career didn’t exactly keep him out of harm’s way. But this was different, his life has never been threatened like this before. Sure, he’s been in trades that have gone south or the occasional gun fight on a Fringe Planet but never has a knife been held to his throat so seriously.

Yixing brings his hand up to his neck, the ghost of the blade’s tip still lingering against his skin. He suddenly finds himself shaking when he finds his finger come away wet with his own blood from the small incision. He swallows hard to keep his hand steady but loses the battle, finding his vision start to blur as he starts to shiver from a cold he’s not sure is really there.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Kris says softly before getting up. When his first attempt to get Yixing to stand fails, he bends over and gets the smaller to throw an arm around his neck. With one arm supporting the pilot’s back and the other under the knees, Kris carries Yixing to the latter’s room and deposits him on his bed. He turns to the dresser and grabs a couple things from the drawers before facing Yixing, who has drawn his knees into his chest, still shivering. “Come on, we gotta get you out of those dirty clothes.”

In no position to properly oppose being treated like a child, Yixing lets Kris pull his shirt over his head and use it to clean whatever is left on his face before tossing it to the floor behind. “Ship’s too small to have much running water, so this’ll have to do for now,” Kris explains as he directs Yixing’s arms into clean sleeves. “I’ll get Tao to clean ‘em up once we get to Whitestone.”

“I hate your ship,” Yixing grumbles, but with a smile that he hopes shows his appreciation.

There’s a small chortle as Kris removes Yixing’s shoes and nudges him horizontal so he can throw a blanket over him. “Try to get some sleep,” he says before turning to leave.

“Hey, wait,” Yixing calls before he can convince himself not to. His face is red when Kris turns towards him again, “Stay? I mean, I know we agreed we’d keep it professional. I just… I don’t…” The words ‘want to be alone right now’ get caught in his throat but Kris seems to hear them anyway, stepping forward and signalling Yixing to move over to make room for him on the bed.

“Better?” Kris asks, head propped up on his arm.

Yixing continues to shiver despite the blankets and he closes his eyes to concentrate on stilling himself. He nods a ‘yes’ even though nothing seems to have changed except the fact that now there is even less room on the already small bed. “I’m sorry about Chanyeol,” he whispers.

Kris shrugs, hand coming up to rub along Yixing’s arm, as if it might help the smaller stop shivering, but Yixing can tell it's an action that is supposed to distract Yixing from this line of conversation. “He had it coming,” he says nonchalantly, averting his eyes.

“Yeah, but you didn’t want to do it,” Yixing probes anyway, hoping that Kris might elaborate. “And I pretty much made you.”

A frown creases Kris’ forehead but he disguises it as exasperation, “Did you forget that you were the one to stop me the first time?”

“If you really wanted to kill him, I wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

Kris swallows visibly as he keeps his gaze averted, hand coming off Yixing now that it has proven ineffective. “He deserved it.”

“And yet you still gave him three chances before you pulled that trigger,” Yixing points out, enjoying how it makes Kris’ jaw clench visibly, proving his theory correct. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Kris looks up only so he can glare at Yixing, “I don’t want to talk about it,” he bites out, obviously uncomfortable about the topic.

Yixing pouts but he can tell by the way that Kris has started to shift in place that he's not going to get much else out of the silver haired man. “Okay.”

“Try to get some sleep,” Kris repeats, back to running his hand up and down Yixing’s arm even though it’s obvious that he’s no longer shivering. Neither makes a comment about it and Yixing pulls subtly towards Kris before he lets his eyes fall closed.

 

When Yixing wakes up, the clock above his bed reads just past three in the morning. He’s alone in his bed once more and the ship is silent when he gets up to wander its depths. Without meaning to, Yixing finds himself wandering towards the location where Chanyeol’s body fell but it has already disappeared, leaving no trace of the events taking place there a few hours ago. Swallowing hard, he forces himself to turn around and makes for the bridge, doing his habitual cursory checks before he lies down on the cold metal floor. With a relieved sigh, he folds his hands across his chest, a small smile playing at his lips as he stares up through the window at the stars beyond it, blinking lazily against the surrounding endless black.

Upon graduation from the Academy, Yixing’s professor had pulled him aside and introduced him to the General, bragging about his ease in the driver’s seat. “Best in his class, and quite frankly, best I’ve seen in all my forty years of teaching,” he’d gushed. At the time, Yixing had simply shrugged, modestly denying the exaggeration, though secretly he knew it to be true. But government was boring, as he’d discovered in class. Fighter pilots spent too much time just training and the alternative category is ‘exploration’, which is significantly less ‘exploratory’ than its name suggests, and more ‘lazy cruising and monitoring’. Both involve more paperwork than Yixing would care to fill out. “Probably fewer direct threats to my livelihood,” Yixing grumbles to himself with a slight chuckle as a painfully mundane version of himself in government garb runs through his imagination of what life might be if he’d decided to take the General’s offer.

“But that’d just take the fun out of life, wouldn’t it?” comes the reply Yixing doesn’t expect and he cranes his neck up to look past his feet at Kris and returns the grin the older wears, though less weary than it looks on the taller.

“Probably,” the pilot answers, dropping his head back to rest of the floor again, “What brings you to my office at this hour, my dear captain?”

A quiet scoff echoes in the room before they are followed by footsteps. “Nothing. Just doing my rounds, but it looks like you’ve got it covered up here,” Kris explains before he takes a seat next to Yixing. “You feeling better?”

With a groan and an eye-roll, he raises a hand to smack his employer’s knee, “Ask me that again and I’ll give _you_ a reason to not feel okay.”

Kris returns the groan, but has clearly learned not to comment on how Yixing doesn’t seem to respect their relative positions. “Good, don’t want my ship going off course because my idiot pilot can’t get his shit together.”

Yixing makes a dramatic hissing sound. “Wow, ‘idiot’’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” he asks, though he’s glad that Kris seems to have loosened up a little from his always-serious demeanor.

Kris makes a ‘tch’ sound and shakes his head in disdain, not bothering to answer.

A silence falls on the bridge once more before Yixing breaks it again a few minutes later. “How’d your aim get so good? I always assumed you were just some thug with some decent business knowledge.” He’s not surprised when he’s not given an answer immediately; he’s learning quickly that Kris doesn’t particularly enjoy talking about himself. He does call the other’s name a couple minutes of waiting later though, a reminder that he isn’t just going to drop the question just because Kris likes being evasive.

The sound of rubber soles on metal grating rings through the room as Kris gets to his feet again. “You went to the Academy to become a pilot, but you’re forgetting that the Academy has other classes to offer its cadets.”

“Wait, what?!” Yixing exclaims, sitting up properly to see Kris departing. “Hey!” he calls, “You seriously going to leave without explaining the part where you used to be a cadet?!” He scowls when Kris waves behind him dismissively, something that tells Yixing that there is little point in trying to pursue the silver haired captain for answers. Conceding this defeat, he falls backwards once more to stare out the window, now letting his imagination run rampant with theories about how Kris went from being a government cadet to running the largest organized crime family on Terra Prima.

 

Yixing frowns and his eyes narrow as they follow Kris’ car as it disappears into the horizon. _Persephone_ ’s captain said little when she landed, and he left in his car with Jongdae and Victoria as soon as his crew got it off the ship. Yixing tried on _several_ occasions to pry information from Kris about his trip but every attempt was met with a tight-lipped refusal to reveal even a hint. And while Yixing didn’t openly comment about it, Kris became increasingly irritable as _Persephone_ drew closer to Whitestone.

“Where do you think he’s off to in such a hurry?” he asks Minseok, turning the face the other.

The mechanic shrugs, attention on his tablet as he chews his thumbnail in concentration. “Don’t know and don’t care,” Minseok mumbles, followed by several incoherent words as he goes over the list on the tablet he holds in front of him.

“Do you think he’d mind if I followed him?” Yixing wonders out loud, more to himself than to Minseok, who has wandered off doing - what _is_ he doing?

“Yes,” a third voice answers from behind.

Yixing nearly jumps in his surprise, turning around to share his distaste for Tao’s sudden appearance. “For _fuck’s_ sake, stomp around a little more please. How many times does a guy have to ask?!”

Tao doesn’t bother commenting, just like he hasn’t commented on Yixing’s fifty previous indignant outbursts over the course of their trip to Whitestone (Yixing has developed the assumption that Tao does not like him, though he has yet to determine the reason).

“Shouldn’t _you_ be with Kris out there? Not here lurking in the shadows and scaring the living daylights out of unsuspecting crew members? Aren’t you his right hand man or something?”

“ _Duizhang_ suspected you might want to ‘go exploring’ so he tasked me to make sure you stay put and out of his business.”

“What a spoil sport,” Yixing crosses his arms, turning to glare at the car that is no longer visible.

Tao lets out a long sigh, shaking his head, “All you need to know is that it’s personal. And,” he adds when Yixing pouts, “Instead of acting like a petulant brat, maybe you should quit whining and give Minseok a hand,” Tao instructs, turning away.

The pilot waits until Tao is out of earshot before he parrots the latter in an unnaturally high pitched and mocking voice. “Maybe instead of being a creepy ninja guy, you should figure out how to stop being such a stick in the mud,” he counters to no one before kicking an empty soda can off the cargo bay door. When he turns around to find the mechanic, he’s startled a second time, “Jesus, do _none_ of you know that it’s rude to sneak up on others?!”

“Sorry,” the newest arrival apologizes before Yixing recognizes her. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Amber is the only one of Kris’ entourage that bothers to ever converse with Yixing. The others tend to give Yixing withering and condescending glances when they cross paths on the ship, clearly only tolerating his existence as a sign of respect for their leader. In contrast, Amber voluntarily asked about Yixing’s condition after the incident with Chanyeol, expressing genuine concern over the pilot’s wellbeing.

“You want to find out, don’t you?” Amber asks, taking a bite out of her apple with a loud crunch. “I mean what business is so important that our _duizhang_ has to attend to it personally,” she clarifies after swallowing when Yixing gives her a confused look. A smile cracks across Amber’s features as he takes a step forward to whisper in Yixing’s ear, “I know where he’s off to, do you want me to take you?” She pulls back with a playful glint in her eyes as she takes another chunk out of her apple.

Yixing swallows at the offer, tempted to satisfy his selfish curiosity but he hesitates when he remembers that Tao said that the matter is _personal_. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Aww, you sure?” Amber frowns, disappointed.

He chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he heaves a heavy sigh, “I should go see if Minseok needs any help.”

Amber shrugs, “Come find me if you change your mind.”

 

 _Persephone’_ s mechanic has Yixing too busy for his mind to be changed though; he doesn’t even think about where his employer might be until the sun sets on Whitestone, pink and purple painting the sky as a rumble in his stomach reminds Yixing that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. He’s in the middle of chowing down on yet another protein bar with the pantry doors swung open, searching for something else to eat when he hears someone enter behind him. Mouth still full, he peaks out from the pantry and finds Kris walking into the kitchen, hair disheveled and his eyebrows stitched together. “That was… quicker than expected,” Yixing remarks as he takes a step back and closes the pantry door, crumbs falling from his mouth before he remembers to swallow first, “Thought you’d been gone a couple days.”

Kris glances over to Yixing from where he has collapsed onto the mess hall bench, arms hanging over the edges, his eyes wide in alarm like he hadn’t noticed Yixing before the pilot spoke up. “Oh, hey Yixing. Uhm, didn’t think there’d be anyone here,” he grumbles, followed by a very unnecessary clearing of the throat as he peels himself off the bench and to a standing position again. He tries but fails to tame the mess of hair on his head, actually managing to make it look more disheveled than it did before the effort. “I, uh, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he grumbles before turning fast on his heel and starting for the doorway.

“Hey, wait!” Yixing calls as he runs after Kris, voice garbled by the rest of the bar he has shoved into his mouth. “Why are you back so early? Aren’t you supposed to be spending a couple nights in town?” he asks when he’s finally caught up.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I, er, I forgot something,” Kris explains vaguely.

Yixing doesn’t point out that the feeble excuse doesn’t explain why he was collapsed on the galley bench. “Well, I’m about to head out to find a bite to grab myself. Interested?”

Kris smiles weakly at the offer, “Thanks, but I should really get back. You enjoy it for me, yeah?”

“Hey, is everything alright?” Yixing asks when Kris turns to leave with drooping shoulders, not bothering to mask his concern as he watches Kris start towards the exit, a shakey hand carding through his silver locks. He hasn’t known Kris very long (thirteen days since they first exchanged words at the bar, to be exact) but in the few days that he has spent on this trip, he has never seen Kris this out of sorts. Hell, the guy doesn’t even look that bad when he first wakes up. “I’m here if you need someone to talk to,” he offers, hoping that he hasn’t overstepped his boundaries.

Kris faces Yixing again, a conflicted expression as he contemplates Yixing’s offer. The pilot resists the urge to take a step forward to press a comforting hand around his captain’s, hugging himself instead as he waits for a response. Kris opens his mouth a couple times before his eyebrows stitch together in a frown and he spins abruptly on his heel once more, missing a step before he’s on his way once more, “Just worry about having this ship ready to head back to Prima when I get back,” he commands, though it seems much less authoritative and much more exhausted than Yixing is used to.

 

The next time Yixing sees Kris, he’s stepping out of his car in front of _Persephone_ , arriving as planned three days after their landing on Whitestone. Not a single hair is out of place on his head and he is as composed as ever. The only thing amiss is the extra body that trails behind him. “And who the hell is this, Kris?” he asks when the captain is at the foot of the ship.

“A friend of the family,” Kris explains vaguely before he motions to the mysterious addition and points towards the ship’s living quarters.

“Is this your replacement for Chanyeol?” Yixing asks skeptically as he watches the stranger make his way in the direction indicated, knocking over a crate and apologizing to Minseok who waves him off. “A little clumsy if you ask me,” he remarks before facing Kris again.

“I’m not replacing Chanyeol,” Kris answers curtly, shoulder pushing past Yixing’s forcefully enough to make the other stumble before falling into step beside the taller. “His father, who’s friends with my uncle, asked if I could get him a job and I promised him I’d look after him.”

“Wait, you _personally_ flew out to Whitestone to pick up your uncle’s friend’s kid? What’s so special about this guy?”

“Always the curious one, aren’t you?” Kris asks. When Yixing only shrugs, unashamed, he rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t here for him. I only found out about the request yesterday.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You run a week long background check on me but this guy gets to come aboard after _a day_?! Do you even know his name?”

“It’s Sehun. And I trust my uncle.”

Yixing grabs Kris’ arm to stop him, “Uhm, have we forgotten about the last time you trusted someone and it resulted in you _blowing out their brains_? And now you’re just bringing on strangers you don’t even know?”

“ _This is nothing like Chanyeol_ ,” Kris hisses, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he throws Yixing’s grip off him. “And if you know what’s best for you, you won’t bring him up in my presence ever again.” He gives Yixing a last scathing look before he starts for his bedroom, a clear sign that the topic isn’t up for further discussion.

Yixing’s brow furrows a moment, trying to remember the last time Kris raised his voice at him, with a threat nonetheless. He thought that the last week of playing card games and chatting through the night on the bridge meant they were on better terms than that. His exhales long and dispels the paranoia, heading straight for the crew quarters. He pokes his head into every room that was empty before they landed until he finds the one where the clumsy newcomer is emptying the contents of his bag onto the bed. “You. What are you doing here?” he asks, though it comes out more as a statement than a question.

“Uhm, unpacking?” Sehun replies with a startled jump, his voice cracking as his face turns a bright red. “I’m sorry, is this your room?” he asks, scrambling frankly to stuff articles back into his bag.

“No, I meant, what are you doing _on this ship_?” Yixing clarifies.

Sehun brings a hand up to scratch at the side of his head, a look of confusion on his face, “I… Mr. Zeus said that he would find me a place in his organization on Earth One? Did he not tell…?”

The pilot narrows his eyes, “That’s what I’m told, but I don’t need another government threatening my life again.”

“I… wait, what?” Sehun asks, face scrunching up further as the garments fall from his hand onto the floor.

Yixing studies the other’s alarmed expression for a long moment before he concedes that there isn’t anything he can do even if his captain’s trust is misplaced; he’s certainly going to keep an eye on this new arrival though (he also makes a mental note to recheck the deadbolt lock on his bedroom door). “So, how is it exactly that you know Kris?”

“Kris?” Sehun asks, bending over to retrieve the fallen shirt, “Oh, Mr. Zeus?” (Yixing tries not to snort at the title a second time) “I’ve only heard about him from Father. Met him for the first time yesterday at the memorial service.”

“Did you say _memorial_?”

“Yeah. Mr. Suho was _duizhang’s_ best friend, they left the Academy together and started their empire... I was under the impression that everyone under his employ was aware of his origins…” Sehun trails, his turn to be wary of Yixing.

“I’m new,” Yixing deflects, taking a seat on the bed next to Sehun’s bag as he processes the information, realising once again just how little he knows about his employer, though he wonders why Kris had hidden his reasons if it’s supposed to be a well known fact across the organization. A best friend’s memorial would also explain the personal trip and the way Kris looked three days ago in the mess hall.

“If you don’t mind me being nosy, can I ask you something?” Sehun asks.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, what is it?” Yixing replies, bringing himself out of his own head.

“Why do you call him Kris?”

“What?”

“No one calls him that, and certainly not to his face. And no one swears at him either, or makes any demands of him. I’ve seen him with others these past couple days and no one speaks to him like you do. Who are you to him?”

“What?” Yixing repeats before realising that he’s heard this same observation before, in Minseok’s voice. “You’re imagining things,” he says blankly as he gets to his feet, moving quickly to disappear before Sehun can comment on anything else. He stops only when he’s back in the hallway of his own room, stopping just inside the door with a hand to his chest. No, his heart certainly isn’t racing at the idea of being somehow _special_ to Kris. That would be absurd, especially so given his distaste for mixing business and personal relationships.

But Sehun’s room isn’t so far from his own that the short jog should affect him this much.

Yixing decides that, to be safe, he’ll keep his interactions with Kris to only those absolutely necessary. On the trip out to Whitestone, Yixing might have gone out of his way to make conversation with the captain but he resolves that the return trip will not be the same.

Once they pull out of Whitestone’s orbit, he fulfills his duties as pilot and sets course for Terra Prima. He reports their location to Kris in the morning but retires swiftly to his bedroom after breakfast where he stays, leaving only for meals and to check in on the bridge every few hours. He wonders how many times he can throw a ball against the wall and catch it on this trip. ‘ _At least we didn’t have to detour this time.’_

Yixing thinks he’s got avoiding Kris down to a science by their third day aboard when he runs into the silver-haired man that invades his dreams on the way off the bridge. He stops abruptly in mid step before he remembers to act normal. He plasters on a smile as he walks, offering a short ‘hey’ as he passes the taller.

“That’s all I get, a ‘hey’?”

Yixing purses his lips but stops to turn and face Kris, “Was there something you needed, captain?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even as he tries to ignore the hand around his elbow.

“Is something the matter?” Kris asks, an eyebrow arched into his forehead as his grip slackens.

“Nope, everything looks great. Should have you back home in a less than two days.”

“I mean with _us_ . You haven’t been able to look me in the eye since we left Whitestone. What happened to all your snarky comments about how terrible a name _Zeus_ is or how my silver hair makes me look old?”

 _‘There is no_ us _,’_ Yixing wants to correct but he thinks that will make him too obvious. “I, uh, I’ve just been busy,” he deflects instead, trying his best to hold Kris’ gaze until he feels like he’s going to be seen through by those concerned brown eyes.

“‘Busy’? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Yixing swallows hard and keeps his eyes averted, “Was there something you needed, captain?” he repeats when his mind fails to procure a suitable answer.

Kris sighs heavily, shaking his head but dropping his hand from Yixing’s arm. “You know you can talk to me, right? And I mean not as a captain. _As a friend_.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yixing whispers as he finally brings his eyes to meet Kris’, “And that’s the problem,” he adds under his breath. He doesn’t wait to find out if Kris might’ve heard him and understands what he’s trying to say before he takes off, making a run for his room and locking the door, taking deep breaths to calm his chest. When the hell did his stomach get so… _funny_ around Kris? And when did it get so hard to hold a normal conversation?

Yixing has known from the beginning that there has been attraction from both parties when he accepted Kris’ offer to pilot _Persephone_ but it was never supposed to amount to anything. “Fucking hormones,” he grumbles before he drops into his bed and buries his face in the pillow.

When he hears his name being called from the other side of the door, he pulls the pillow from under him to pull over his ears as he presses his eyes tightly closed, hoping fervently that if he stays quiet long enough, Kris will just take the hint and leave.

He counts to somewhere past six-hundred before he hears footsteps retreating on the other side of his door.

 

Yixing doesn't remember falling asleep so when he wakes up hours later, he's disorientated. His alarm is going off, a reminder to head to the bridge for a check. He half-falls, half stumbles off his bed, using his hands to help push himself up to standing and turns off the alarm with a wide yawn. He meanders into the hallway, eyes half closed but making it to his destination from memory. He slaps himself on either side of his face in an attempt to keep his eyes open as he collapses into his chair with a groan. "Right," he grumbles out loud to himself as he pulls up the map onto the console. Hiding yet another yawn behind his hand, he makes a mental note to push up the timing for his next check; _Persephone_ is coming up on Xiaoming and while the ship's trajectory will have them far enough away from the planet gravitational field that he doesn't have to worry about to crashing into it, Xiaoming has the unfortunate description of being a Prime Planet and it is best to avoid flying onto the radar of yet another government ship, even if _Persephone’_ s cloak is working once more.

He nearly falls back into his chair when he turns to leave the bridge, startled by the shadowed figure standing in the doorway.

"I'm really sorry about this, Yixing. I promise this isn't personal."

It's the only warning Yixing gets before he hears the shot. His hand comes up immediately to his abdomen where it comes away covered in red. The strength in his knees gives way to the ship’s artificial gravity and he falls back into the chair he has just vacated, his breathing short and strangled as sweat beads over his face, eyes squeezed tightly closed and teeth grinding as the pain registers in his brain, spreading panicked signals to all his nerves. A garbled groan falls from his lips as he presses his hand to the wound, trying to keep his palm on the hole but it doesn't seem to be doing much to staunch the blood flow.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he moans with strain, inhaling sharply past his teeth as he reaches for the ship's radio button, painting the console with streaks of red. A sharp shriek of feedback makes him grimace further and his finger slips from the call button, lifeless as he slides off the chair with another loud whine. "Yup, Lu Han was right, I'm gunna die here," he whispers to himself, voice raspy as he swallows. He presses his eyes closed again, trying not to focus on the bitter metallic taste on his tongue.

"What in the fuck is going on here?!" Kris exclaims as he clamours into the room a few minutes later, pulling a shirt over his head, probably woken by the feedback on his room's communicator.

Yixing can't help a chuckle as he drags himself back towards the console so that he can lean against its legs, "Sorry, got myself a little shot up."

Kris seems to freeze on the spot, his shirt half on as his mouth opens and closes soundlessly several times before he dashes towards Yixing with wide eyes. "What.... how... _what the fuck_?!"

"Still so great with words," Yixing gets out in between ragged breaths.

"We need to get you to a hospital."

Yixing grimaces, "Wasn't it just a few days ago that I suggested you hire a doctor for your ship? You know, in case of situations like this?"

Kris ignores the ironic comment and gets on the radio to summon Minseok. He takes his shirt off again and tears a strip off it before he peels Yixing's hand off his abdomen carefully, muttering an apology when Yixing groans loudly. He presses the ripped cloth against the wound, immediately colouring it with the pilot's blood. "Jesus, what the hell happened here?" he asks, though more to himself than to Yixing.

"Wrong place, wrong time?" Yixing jokes with a cough, nodding weakly at Minseok who stops at the scene before him with a horrified look. "Hey, grease monkey,” Yixing greets with a weak smile.

"Can you land this ship?" Kris asks, snapping his fingers at Minseok for his attention when he continues to stare at Kris’ hand on Yixing’s abdomen blankly. "We should be coming up on Xiaoming. We can get help from one of their hospitals."

"Uh..."

" _Well_?!" Kris prompts, more urgently.

"We can't go to Xiaoming. You've got an outstanding arrest warrant there," Yixing explains weakly, sliding down the console leg.

"I think this is a little more important than me getting arrested," Kris argues, his voice rising in both pitch and volume, signalling for Minseok to get to figuring out whether he can land _Persephone_ on Xiaoming.

“Uh, it definitely wasn’t one of my better classes, but I suppose in an emergency..." Minseok trails, glancing at Yixing before Kris snaps at him again to take Yixing's empty seat.

Kris turns his attention to Yixing once more, "You're going to be fine," he tries to console, though it’s unclear if it’s for Yixing’s benefit or his own.

"I suppose I can find out why Chanyeol was trying to get you arrested," Yixing jokes with another cough. "I'll be sure to tell him you miss him."

"Shut up, no one's seeing anyone."

The constant hum of the engine is replaced by a loud clunk that makes Kris glare up at the mechanic.

"You gotta," Yixing starts with difficulty, pulling himself to a more upright position again with Kris' help and pointing to Minseok's left, "take it out of autopilot first." The mechanic does as Yixing directs and the loud noise stops, replaced with an abrupt jerk that sends Yixing on his back again, too tired to support himself.

"Hey," Kris growls, tapping Yixing's cheek with his fingers,"Stay awake," he orders. "No one else is dying on this ship."

Yixing's eyes snap open for a second before he lets them fall again, heavy with fatigue as he replies with a short hum. He hears Kris yell something at Minseok but can't make out the words as his vision fades to black.

 

When Yixing next opens his eyes, he has to blink a couple times before they adjust to the harsh lighting.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Kris greets with a grin as he gets to his feet to stand beside Yixing who crinkles his forehead in confusion at the reference.

It takes him a minute to remember the reason he's in a hospital room and he groans at the memory when it finally surfaces, "How long have I been out?”

“Just a couple days.”

Yixing scowls at the answer, pulling himself up to rest his back against his pillow with Kris’ help. “Now I'm going to have to listen to Lu Han lecture me for days..."

Kris’ lips press into a thin lip as he pulls away, eyebrows furrowing together as he crossed his arms, "Who's Lu Han?"

Yixing grins at the other's curious tone, "If I say he's my boyfriend, would you be jealous?" he asks, catching himself too late with a grimace before he clears his throat loudly, "Uhm, how strong exactly are the drugs they gave me?"

"Strong enough, apparently," Kris comments, "Is he?"

"Lu Han?" Yixing clarifies, contemplating a moment before he shrugs, "I dunno, he's alright? I mean don't expect him to lug around engine parts, but he can carry his textbooks good enough. He once carried me home from school though so there's that."

Kris groans loudly at the long explanation, "No, I mean," he runs a hand through his hair, "Is he your boyfriend?"

Yixing frowns at the question, "What? Lu Han? My boyfriend? Of course not, he's just an annoying friend who thinks he's my mom. What would make you think he's my boyfriend?"

"You just...!" Kris exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation and turning around.

Yixing's eyes widen in alarm before he realises his mistake, "Er... I blame the drugs?" he offers weakly, to which Kris' response is to roll his eyes. "I don't, by the way. Have a boyfriend, I mean," he clarifies before looking down his hospital gown at where a thin bandage stretches across his abdomen, changing the topic quickly away from his relationship status. "So, uhm, what happened? You shoot any more brains out? You really gotta work on that temper of yours. I mean I'm sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this."

"How can you be so optimistic even after getting shot?"

Yixing shrugs, "I'm still alive, aren't I? So?" he prompts again, not letting Kris succeed in trying to change the subject.

A muscle clenches visibly in Kris' jaw as he takes a seat in the chair next to the bed again. "I sent Sehun home, haven't had the time to talk to his father yet. Been a little... held up," he explains vaguely.

"'Held up'?" Yixing repeats, "Oh, right! You're not in prison!"

Kris chuckles, "Great observation skills, Zhang Yixing," he says, sarcasm thick on his voice but he doesn't elaborate further, letting the pilot assume that the lawyers Kris mentioned as they were taking off from Earth One are good at things other than contracts.

"Why'd you send Sehun home? Thought you were getting him a job?"

"Forget a job," Kris hisses, "he should feel lucky I respect my uncle enough that I didn't just kill him on the spot."

"What? Why are you trying to kill people again?"

"Well, he-!" Kris starts, nonspecific before gesturing at Yixing's stomach. "You're the one who asked!" he sputters defensively.

"You're the one who brought up Sehun first."

"Wait a second, was Sehun..." Kris starts, unsure, "Was Sehun _not_ the one who shot you?"

Yixing narrows his eyes, "No... I mean Sehun's a little weird, but it wasn't him... is that why you sent him home?" He asks, sitting up straighter still. “No, that was Amber…” he reveals cautiously, not sure if mentioning that yet another member of his crew has acted against his wishes will set Kris off dangerously again. “She’s still alive, right?”

Kris’ gaze hardens in contemplation, getting to his feet and starting the pace the length of the room, “She… she’s been away on errands for longer than she should be…”

“Okay, before you send out a hunting party for her, maybe try not to kill her this time?” Yixing asks hopefully, though not sure he’s got any say in the matter.

“You trying to tell me what to do again?” Kris snaps, turning to glare at Yixing for a brief second before his eyes soften, “It’s just how things are done, you should’ve known this when you agreed to pilot for me.”

“Okay, first, I think ‘agreed’ is a bit misleading, considering how you didn’t really give me a choice. And second, hey, I’m not saying that some guys don’t deserve it, but you do tend to be a little… I dunno… twitchy with your guys. Shouldn’t you trust them more?”

“I didn’t get to where I am by being trusting,” Kris hisses.

“I get that. Just… maybe tone down the killy-ness.”

“Killy-ness?” Kris asks, the dangerous tone already fading as he lets Yixing entertain him, “Really? You know that’s not a word, right?”

“Sure it is. Like Fun and funniness. Kill and killy-ness. It’s definitely a word. Either that or I’m still a little high.”

“Let’s go with the latter.”

“That’s probably a safe bet,” Yixing concedes.

Kris checks his wrist, “I should get going. Need to, well… you know.” He fidgets with last button on his shirt. “Doc says you should be good to go in a day or so, so just rest up and we’ll head out soon as you’re up for it. Should’ve already been back on Terra by now.”

“What, there isn’t a single pilot on this shitty rock that you could hire in place of me while I was out?”

Kris snorts but musters a smile, “You’re hard to replace. Besides, the background check would’ve taken forever, remember?”

“Was that a joke? Are you actually making a joke?”

Kris scowls indignantly, “Go back to sleep, Zhang,” he orders before turning to leave through the door.

“Hey, wait!” Yixing calls, swinging his feet over the side of the bed, straining a little against his stitches. “You forgot something.”

Kris turns around to give YIxing a confused look as he reaches into his pockets. “What?” Yixing nudges his head for Kris to come back and the taller obliges, though with a long sigh. “If you’re going to make another comment about the way I run my organization, make it quick.”

“Nope,” Yixing grins before he reaches for Kris’ collar and pulls him down so their lips touch briefly, pulling away with a grin on his face as he lets his grip around Kris’ shirt relax.

The taller male stumbles backwards, his expression full of alarm as he stares at Yixing with wide eyes before they narrow skeptically, “I thought you wanted to keep it professional between us,” he says flatly.

Yixing rolls his eyes, “Kris, I just about died. _Again_. I think I’m allowed to re-evaluate my priorities.”

“And do I get any say in this?” Kris asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, are you saying no?” Yixing retorts, pouting thickly and staring upwards with wide eyes.

Kris purses his lips for a long moment before he lets out a defeated sigh, “You play by your own rules, don’t you?”

Lips pulling into a wide grin, Yixing finally blinks and he reaches out to grasp the older’s shirt to draw him close once more, “Of course,” he winks before he closes the last of the distance between them, letting out a soft moan when Kris finally presses back, a finger under Yixing’s chin to tilt it upwards. His tongue sweeps along Yixing’s bottom lip, and the pilot’s lips part easily to accept him.

Yixing’s grip loosens and a hand drops down to hook a finger through the hoops that hold the taller’s belt in place while the other reaches up to rest lightly around Kris’ elbow. His thumb manages to find a way under the folds of Kris tucked shirt to trace slow circles on his hip, drawing a purr from the latter that thrums through Yixing and sets his cock twitching for attention. His legs come up to wrap around Kris and the taller stumbles a little at the sudden jolt before he laughs into Yixing’s mouth. “A little eager, are we?” Kris asks as he pulls away, hands moving to free himself from his pilot. “You’re injured, you should be resting.”

“I feel fine,” Yixing pouts against, his legs now swinging over the edge of his bed as he narrows his eyes at his captain, “Is this payback for when I rejected you at the hotel on Earth One?”

Kris laughs again and he bends over to swing Yixing’s leg up and onto the bed again, “No, this is a ‘you still have a hole in your body that needs healing and I’m pretty sure such strenuous activity would be against doctor’s orders’ thing. So, you need to rest, and I need to… find someone.”

Yixing swallows at the implication, disappointed that his play for attention hasn’t actually distracted Kris from his need to find Amber. He doesn’t have the energy to remark on it again though as a fresh batch of painkillers are pumped through his veins. Instead, he yawns and draws the blankets up around him, his eyelids already feeling like lead.

 

Tao comes to pick Yixing up from the hospital a couple days later and the ride to where _Persephone_ is parked is uncomfortably quiet. _Zeus_ ’ right hand man says little save for initial instructions for the computer to return to the ship, tapping away quietly at his tablet without a single glance up at Yixing who drums his fingers on his cheek as he stares out the window at the never ending landscape of high-rises outside. He tries not to note that the crew is severely lacking, with only himself, Tao and Minseok left onboard (Jongdae is missing alongside his leader).

To his credit, Minseok’s greeting is much more enthusiastic, though it is filled more with sarcastic comments than with questions about the pilot’s well-being before the mechanic gives Yixing a firm slap on the back and a ‘glad you’re back’ before disappearing to tinker with something on the ship.

“Where’s Kris?” Yixing asks when he finally manages to locate Tao, sitting with his ankles crossed on a crate facing _Persephone_ , still working furiously on his tablet.

“Out,” is Tao’s curt answer.

“Yes, I see that. When’s he coming back?” Yixing prods.

“Later.”

Yixing groans loudly, eliciting a bored roll of the eyes from his audience, “Great, you’ve been really helpful. I know everything I need to know, now. Thanks, Tao” he mutters before storming back onto the ship through the cargo entrance and then straight to his room where he slams the door shut and drops into his bed with a huff.

He can’t remember how long he’s been sitting in bed, throwing a ball at the opposite wall with one hand and catching it with the other while a soft knock sounds on his bedroom door. “For the last time, Kim Minseok, I don’t know where the inch-and-a-quarter socket is and no, I’m not getting up to help you look for it,” he yells.

Instead of the accusation that Yixing was the one to lose it in the first place he expects to hear from the other side of the door, a knock sounds again followed by Kris’ tired voice, “Can I come in, Yixing?”

Startled, Yixing curses when the ball hits him in the face and he fumbles to catch it once more. “Yeah, sure, door’s unlocked,” he hollers, stowing the ball on the bedside table before sitting up a little taller when the door slides open. “Where’ve you been?” he starts to ask before he notes the red spots splattered across the front of his guest’s shirt. He swallows uncomfortably but moves over on his bed for Kris to sit down next to him. “How is she?” Yixing asks gingerly.

Kris sighs as he sinks in next to Yixing, “She’s still breathing if that’s what you’re asking,” he grumbles, sliding back so he can lean his head on the wall, closing his eyes. “She tried to kill you, why are you so concerned about her wellbeing?”

Yixing frowns as he joins Kris on the wall, “I’m not. I’m concerned what killing another one of your friends is going to do to you.”

Kris’ eyes open and his head rolls around so he can look Yixing in the eye, “They’re not my friends. They’re my employees.”

“Fine, whatever. _Someone you trusted_ , then.”

Kris rolls his eyes lazily but doesn’t refute the claim as his rolls his head to face forward again, but letting it drop to rest on Yixing’s shoulder. “She said she was doing it for me. That you were a weakness I needed to be rid of.”

Yixing makes a sort of humming sound as his forehead crinkles together in contemplation, “Weird, cus she was always so nice to me. She even offered-” he stops in mid-sentence, not sure if he should be revealing that he had wanted to dig into Kris’ personal matters on Whitestone.

“Apparently, she wanted to take you to see what I was doing on Whitestone in hopes that I’d be angered enough to dispel you from my crew on my own. Said you declined though. I can’t decide what I would’ve prefered though, you alive and well but abandoned on that planet or you getting shot up on a ship and my having to get arrested to get you to a proper hospital. Then again,” Kris moves his head off Yixing’s shoulder, though still leaning his head against the wall to stare back at Yixing with a small smile, “Not sure I could’ve gotten angry enough to erase you from my life altogether, so I suppose the latter was inevitable. Sorry.”

Yixing feels the tips of his ears burn at the comment and he focuses on keeping his tongue from asking about the memorial, noting that Kris made of point of continuing to keep the reasoning for his Whitestone excursion a secret; the pilot would just have to wait for Kris to bring it up himself if he ever decided to. “So,” he starts instead, deciding to ignore the comment Kris made about not being about to remove Yixing from his life, “What are you going to do with her?”

Kris sighs heavily, though Yixing isn’t sure if it’s because of Yixing’s evasion or his insistence on asking about Amber, “Well, we’re going to head home in the morning, and she’s... not.”

Yixing is tempted to ask whether that means Kris is sparing Amber’s life but he hesitates when he sees the other press his eyes closed tightly, his eyebrows stitched together. It’s a long moment before Kris finally opens his eyes again, “Can we… not talk about Amber?” he asks.

“Well, what do you want to talk about then?” he asks, looking down to snake his fingers in between Kris’ in an effort to soothe whatever mixed feelings about Amber that might be troubling the taller.

Kris looks alarmed at the action but he soon folds his fingers around Yixing’s, thumb rubbing gently against the back of the smaller’s, “Anything? You?” he pauses a moment, “Us?”

“‘Us’?” Yixing repeats, raising an eyebrow, “There’s an ‘us’ now?”

“You going to try to pretend you don’t remember what happened in that hospital room?”

“What happened in that hospital room?” Yixing parrots innocently, though the playful smile that tugs at the corners of his lips gives him away. Kris scowls and starts to pull his hand back to himself as he gets up to leave, only to have Yixing grasp it tighter. “I’m kidding!” he laughs, pulling Kris back down, getting the taller tangled in his own limbs as he falls into Yixing’s lap. “Hey there, beautiful,” Yixing winks with a wide grin, enjoying how red Kris’ ears get at the gesture.

With a scramble, Kris frees himself and successfully gets to his feet, crossing his arms as he glares at Yixing for a second before he starts for the door without another word.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Yixing asks, sliding so that his legs hang off the end of the bed.

“Trying to use the same trick twice?” Kris asks with a sigh, though there’s an entertained twinkle in his eye.

“Depends,” Yixing asks, “Is it working?”

A muscle twitches visibly in Kris’ jaw and Yixing beams when the other lets out a defeated curse and steps back towards Yixing, bending over to press his lips against Yixing’s. In reply, the pilot arches his neck to meet him as he snakes his arms around the taller’s neck to pull him down again. He leans back to lie on his bed, smiling into the kiss when he feels Kris stumble again before he regains his balance, placing his hands on either side of Yixing’s head.

“Shut up,” Kris murmurs as he settles onto his elbows.

“I didn’t say anything,” the pilot laughs, a hand come up to play with hairs on the back of Kris’ head.

With a glare, Kris moves to capture Yixing’s lips in his own once more, nipping teasingly at the smaller’s bottom lip, though it serves less as a punishment than to spur him on. Yixing shifts a little under the weight of the taller, hands moving from around Kris’ neck to work the buttons on his shirt open. His fingers graze the skin underneath, tracing every bump as they travel towards the waist where they rest, pulling their bodies closer even as Kris moves to straddle Yixing on his knees.

When Kris pulls away for breath, his eyes are dark with lust as he stares down at Yixing for a brief moment before he moves to press his lips to Yixing’s stomach, tracing a line upwards as he pushes the shirt out of the way. He licks a stripe up to the pilot’s nipple, drawing a moan from Yixing when he sucks it into his mouth, his hand finding its way to play with the other. Yixing works his fingers into his captain’s hair once more, only letting go for a brief moment for his shirt to be pulled off completely. He feels his own hot breath reflecting off Kris before he pulls the other close once more, tongues wet against each other as they explore each other.

Hips rocking up, Yixing reaches for Kris’ pants, undoing the leather belt and zipper to slip his hand against the taller’s arousal, swallowing the pleasured groan he earns for his effort. He doesn’t bother to hide his whine when Kris pulls away again to trace kisses down his neck and then along his clavicle, each leaving a burning imprint as he makes his way down, dipping his tongue into Yixing’s belly button for a moment before he continues. Kris manages to pull yixing’s jeans off in record time, his thumbs pressing bruises into Yixing’s hips to keep them in place as he licks slowly along the underside of the pilot’s erection.

When Kris finally takes him into his mouth, his hum sending vibrations up the shaft until Yixing is biting into his thumb to muffle his moan when he finally remembers that the ship isn’t empty. He watches as Kris works slowly, his tongue swirling around the tip before he takes in the pilot deeper. Yixing breathes out heavy as he presses his eyes shut, the warmth around his member sending his senses alight and he reaches out to fist his fingers in Kris’ hair for some semblance of purchase, cursing when Kris keeps his hands firmly in place to prevent Yixing’s hips from bucking up. Instead, he draws his knees up, resisting the urge to use his legs to encourage Kris to move faster.

So focused on Kris’ tongue against him, Yixing is caught by surprise when he feels the press of a cool and slick finger at his entrance a second before it enters, Kris’ coarse skin dragging against his insides. He gasps sharply before he reminds himself to relax, trying not to let his mind wander to when and how Kris managed to find his way into Yixing’s dresser drawer. He whines when Kris pulls his lips away, leaving Yixing’s arousal unattended as he crooks his finger inside. Yixing rocks his hips back, guiding a second digit in as his hands ball into the sheets. Kris takes his time working the smaller open, presses kisses on the inside of Yixing’s thighs as he lifts one leg over his shoulder, and Yixing is sure now that the other is making a point to avoid paying Yixing’s cock the attention it demands. He looks up to bore his eyes into Yixing’s as he presses in a third, licking his lips when Yixing instinctively clenches against the addition before relaxing once more. He moans into the back of his hand when Kris presses up against his prostate again with a crooked finger before he pulls them out. The flush in his cheeks sends a fresh spell of heat to Yixing’s dick and he curses when Kris finally lines himself up. “Just fucking hurry it up,” Yixing bites out.

“Someone’s impatient,” Kris teases, falling to press his forehead against Yixing’s. “Maybe I should make you beg  for it,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Yixing’s lips.

The pilot does his best to scowl before pushing Kris off him and taking advantage of the ensuing surprise to throw the taller on his back before climbing on top of him. “You forget who’re you’re talking to,” he hisses as he presses his lips fiercely against Kris’, forcing his tongue into the other’s mouth. “I’ll just take it instead,” he retorts before he sinks down onto Kris until he’s filled to the hilt, enjoying how Kris’ eyes widen momentarily in surprised ecstasy. He grabs Kris’ hands as he starts to move, guiding them up his torso to rest on his heaving chest. He rocks back slow, trying to find the right angles before he ups his speed, throwing a hand out against the wall to keep his balance and his head back when Kris moves a hand to work around the pilot’s cock, thumb rubbing against the leaking head as he bucks his hips up to meet Yixing’s ass.

Yixing comes first, spilling his load onto Kris’ hand as the latter pulls him through his release before the muscles clenching around him have him shuddering shortly after with a guttural moan. The pilot collapses into his captain’s chest, breath hot and uneven against the latter’s skin for a long minute before he pushes himself up, pressing kisses up to Kris’ lips before he finally pulls off of the other and rolls onto his back. “Well, that was fun,” he muses, heading lolling to the side to face Kris.

“Yeah,” Kris breathes with a tired smile before rolling his eyes at Yixing’s proud smirk. “How’s the injury?” he asks and Yixing rewards him with a snort.

“You ask this _after_ the ‘strenuous activity’?” Yixing returns, parroting Kris’ words back at him before guiding the taller’s hand to trace over the healed skin. “Magic of government medicine,” he remarks, “Were you too busy ogling my beauty to notice it before?”

Kris makes a face as he pulls his hand back to himself. “Why do I put up with you?” he asks rhetorically as he reaches for the pillow to throw underneath them. “Why were so adamant about us never getting together?” Kris asks, shifting onto his side so he can face Yixing properly.

“Why are _you_ so secretive about Whitestone?” Yixing tests, noting how it makes Kris tense up and look away. “The last time I was in a relationship with someone I worked with, I… it didn’t end well,” he answers instead.

Kris raises an eyebrow when he turns back to face Yixing, intrigue plain on his features, “Oh? Do tell.”

“I crashed the ship,” Yixing admits after a moment’s hesitation. “Broke three ribs,” he elaborates, grimacing as looks down and points to his where a barely visible scar recalls the incident. The taller laughs at the discovery, fingers dancing on the scar and Yixing musters a scowl, “It’s not funny. It was fucking painful,” he grumbles, swatting Kris’ hand away from himself.

“Just so you know, if you crash _Persephone_ , I’m going to make you pay for it.”

Yixing glares up at the other, “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be,” Kris deadpans, though the smirk on his lips says otherwise. “She’s a nice ship, and if you crash her, I’m sending you a bill for her repair.”

“Won’t have to crash her if you don’t break up with me.”

Kris raises an eyebrow, “You suggesting we’re _together_ now?” he asks, sucking air in through his teeth dramatically, “Geez, if I’d known you’d be this clingy, I wouldn’t have let you kiss me.”

Yixing yawns, finally crashing from his high, “You’re the one who kissed me, if I recall,” he corrects. “And yes. Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’m also first mate on this ship now,” he announces as he reaches for his blanket. “Gunna have to announce it to the rest of your crew before we set out in the morning,” he mumbles, eyelids drooping closed.

“No. You’re not.”

Yixing hums in reply, too tired to keep up the banter. “Oh yeah,” he whispers, shifting to find a more comfortable position as sleep beckons once more. “You don’t have to tell me about Whitestone if you don’t want to. But I’ll be right here when you decide you can trust me.”

A lazy smile makes its way onto Kris’ features before he leans forward and presses his lips to Yixing’s forehead. “Thanks, ace pilot,” he murmurs before Yixing’s eyes finally fluttered closed with a content hum.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be longer but we all know I am bad at writing established relationships so have some vagueness instead. I also considered writing a xiuhan side to this but, again, we all know how bad I am at writing PERIOD. Also, you can blame K for my very bad attempt at smut :|


End file.
